He turned the corner before I could exclaim, "Did you see that!" The middle-aged, rather frail-looking Sikh gentleman, who has draped the American flag over his pale green turban, had walked quickly past us. Those with me do not believe me, putting it down to an unduly fertile imagination. But extraordinarily enough there is another chance to prove I am not seeing things. Barely two minutes later a much younger, sturdier Sikh gentleman strides past: this time the Stars-and-Stripes are in the form of a cap placed over the central part of his white turban. Many New Yorkers, and even more so Americans elsewhere, can’t tell the difference between a Sardarji and the bearded men of the Taliban. The insensible murder of a Sikh in the aftermath of September 11 may also be the reason that some Sikhs have decided to do away with their turbans all together—at least for the time being—like Joginder Singh, the taxi driver who takes us to the Staten Island Ferry. The two men with star-spangled accessories have chosen to wear their allegiance to their new homeland on their heads. Other pios (people of Indian origin)—like the rest of America—-have their flags in the more usual places: flying from cars, glued onto their doors and windows in their apartments or shops, stuck into their lawns in suburbia, or on their lapels, or even handbags. In other words: if you are with us, say so loud and clear—and in red, white and blue. Commerce has also caught up with the flag mania sweeping the country: brooches and pendants with stones the colours or shape of the flag have suddenly flooded toffee-nosed Fifth Avenue shops as well as the fly-by-night streetside vendors outside train stations and on the busy intersections of the Big Apple.